Angels for Life
by the-Mad-Majesty-of-Muchness
Summary: Sarah Williams is a single mother struggling to make ends meet. Jareth King is a musician who's just plain struggling. Neither can catch a break in the dating world. That is, until Sarah's daughter and her best friend make a trip across the country to bring the two back together for the first time in fifteen years. But Sarah and Jareth have a lot of catching up to do...
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Okay, so this is my first fic for the Laby fandom—well, the first one that I'm actually publishing on here, anyway—and I got the idea for it from an OTP writing prompt blog that I follow on Tumblr. I would like to thank my wonderful friend Billy Jay for helping me brainstorm and giving me constructive criticism on this, etc., etc. Um...Jareth is going to use a word that most of you probably will not recognize or know the meaning of, and don't worry, I am going to explain it at the end of the chapter. I'm already working on the next chapter, so...yeah. This one is just to kind of give an idea of what everyone's lives are like in this AU that I came up with, and...yeah. Also, specific years for everything will be given at the end of the chapter. Okay, that's all. :)**

 **Disclaimer: If you recognize something/someone, then chances are, I have no claim to ownership over said thing/character.**

* * *

"Mom, you seriously need a boyfriend," she said one day as she went into the room where Sarah was folding laundry.  
"We've been over this before, Rory," Sarah replied. "I don't have time for a boyfriend right now, I've got too much going on in my life."

"Like what?" Rory demanded.  
"Besides being your mom?" Sarah retorted. "Well, let's see, there's that acting class I'm teaching, the show that I'm stage managing right now...I could go on."

Rory sighed and plopped down in aAN chair. "No, I get it," she said. "What's your deal with guys, anyway? I mean, I know Brandon was a prick, but—"  
"Yeah, he was, the only good thing I got out of that relationship was you," Sarah interrupted as she folded a pair of Rory's jeans and put them in the laundry basket.

"But," Rory continued, "there are plenty who are better than him."  
"I know that," Sarah said. "But...Look, it's...it's complicated, alright?"

"Okay...well...is there anyone you would consider dating?"  
"Do Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise count?" Sarah asked sarcastically.

"Mom, I'm serious!" Rory cried.

Sarah sighed and shook her head tiredly. "No," she said, "not really. Well, I mean, I guess there is one guy, but..."

Rory quirked an eyebrow curiously. "But...?" she prompted.  
"But I haven't seen him in years, and I have no idea where he is or how to get in contact with him," Sarah finished.

"What's his name?"  
"Jareth. Jareth King."  
"How'd you know him?"

"We went to school together. He was a couple grades ahead of me, but he had to repeat one of his Spanish classes, so that's how we met. I was...fourteen when we met, fifteen when we started dating, and he was...sixteen or seventeen, I think." She let out a somewhat strained laugh. "He, um...He was quite the sight. He was the type of kid that...even if people didn't know him, they still knew him, you know what I mean? He had a very unique, very distinct look that was entirely his own, which was perfect, because his personality was exactly the same way."

"What do you mean? What'd he look like?"  
"Well, first of all, he had this rare genetic condition that made his eyes two different colors, so one was brown and the other was blue. And then...he had this blond hair that just...it was insane. It was sort of...spiked out a little at the top, and then...I guess you could call it a mullet, in a way, but not like you probably are thinking of. Actually, hang on, let me get my yearbook and see if I can find a picture of him."

She abandoned the laundry and went over to the bookshelf, running her finger along the spines until she found what she was looking for and pulled it down from the shelf. She opened it up and went to the index in the back, and once she found what she was looking for, she flipped through until she came to the right page, then handed the book to Rory and perched herself on the arm of the chair that the thirteen-year-old was in, pointing at a picture on the lefthand page. "Right there," she said. "He was sitting on a windowsill in the cafeteria, and a friend of ours who was on the yearbook team snapped this photo of him."

Just as Sarah had said, the young man in the photo had mismatched eyes and wild blond hair. He was dressed in worn black combat boots, faded gray jeans with a hole in one of the knees and a chain on his belt, a white V-neck t-shirt, and fingerless leather biker style gloves. He had a silver chain around his neck with a guitar pick hanging from it, and there was an open guitar case on he floor at his feet, the guitar itself, a darkly colored acoustic, in his hands, the strap slung across his body. He was staring into the camera with a look of bored indifference on his face.

"He never did care much about getting his picture taken for the yearbook," Sarah commented. "To him, the yearbook was just another stupid, meaningless ritual. Said there was no point to it because it wasn't as if you ever stay in contact with any of the people in it, so what was the big deal about having a book full of their pictures and names? Just so you could go back years later and look at the face of the kid who bullied you every day for two years? He never was big on what he called 'mainstream high school shit,' which, in his mind, included the yearbook."

"What happened to him?"  
"His dad got a new job and they had to move."

Sarah let out a sigh. "Saying goodbye to him was probably the hardest thing I've ever done," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I loved him so, _so_ much, more than I've ever loved any of my other boyfriends."

"So why don't you try to find him?" Rory asked.

Sarah laughed humorlessly and shook her head. "It's been fifteen years since we saw each other," she said. "I doubt he would even remember me. And even if he did, he's probably married by now, or at least has a girlfriend."

Rory looked at the picture again. "He liked music, didn't he," she said.  
"He loved music. We went to all sorts of concerts together, and he wanted to be a proffessional musician, start his own band. It was his dream to live in California one day. I asked him once why California, and he just sort of shrugged and said that he didn't really know, it just sort of seemed like a musician-y type of place for some reason. Los Angeles, that's where he wanted to live. He'd lived in small towns all his life, and the idea of living in a big city appealed to him."

She sighed heavily, glancing around the room. When she noticed the clock, she blinked. "Is it that late already?" she wondered out loud. "Come on, Rory, we need to get you in bed."

"But Mom—"  
"No buts, young lady, you were up way too late last night. Come on, let's go."

Rory let out a groan of protest as she handed the yearbook to Sarah, then got up and headed for her room to get changed for bed.

Sarah Williams was a thirty-year-old single mother living in a small Virginia town and struggling to make ends meet. She'd had her daughter when she was only seventeen, and when Sarah had told him she was pregnant, her then-boyfriend, Rory's father, had broken up with her and left her to deal with the situation on her own. Thankfully, Sarah didn't have to see him anymore, because he had moved away shortly before Rory was born. Rory (whose name was actually Victoria) was now thirteen years old and looked just like her mother, but with hazel eyes instead of green, and also like Sarah, she was very imaginative. She was also very strong-willed and could be quite stubborn at times, which tended to drive her mother crazy. Sarah had tried dating other guys after Rory's father, but it never seemed to work out for some reason, so she had decided to just focus on other things for the time being and maybe, if it felt right at some point, try to get back in the dating game later on, but right now, it just wasn't in the cards for her.

Unfortunately for Sarah, Rory apparently had other ideas on the subject.

Sarah took her daughter's place in the chair and laid the yearbook in her lap, her eyes landing on the picture of Jareth King with his guitar, her gaze turning wistful as her thoughts wandered through memories of him, and she began to wonder where he was and what he was doing right then.

* * *

Jareth ran his hands through his hair and gripped it by the roots, clenching his jaw in frustration. He let out a sharp exhalation through his nostrils as he snatched up the notebook that was sitting on the coffee table in front of him and pulled the pencil out from behind his ear, scribbling over what he had written and using so much pressure that the pencil snapped right in half. He let out a growl and tossed it aside—straight into the pile of broken pencils that was growing increasingly larger by the hour. He was currently sitting on the couch in his apartment wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung jeans, a leather cuff bracelet with metal stars on it, a couple of rings, and the same guitar pick he'd had around his neck since junior high. The trash can over in the corner was overflowing with wadded up sheets of notebook paper covered in angry scribbles and scratched-out attempts at song lyrics, and his guitar was on its stand over by the wall.

"Son of a fucking bitch!" he shouted.  
"What's wrong now?" a voice asked in a bored tone.

Jareth inhaled through his nostrils, trying not to lose his cool. The last thing he needed right then was a confrontation.

"Nothing," he said tersely.  
"Good," Peyton replied, "then you won't mind taking me to the mall."

He rolled his eyes. "Why?" he said. "So you can spend even more money that neither of us has to spare?"  
"Hey, I let you do your stupid musician shit, so why the hell can't I have a shopping spree from time to time?"

"Because we have no fucking money, you stupid bitch!"  
"Oh, _hell_ no, you did _not_ just say what I think you said!"

Jareth threw his notebook down and stood up, eyes blazing. "Read my lips," he said. "You are nothing but a shallow, air-headed, material-obsessed, self-centered, childish little bitch with tan lines who wears too much cheap perfume, dresses like a slut, and has absolutely no love or appreciation for anything that actually matters in life! All you care about is yourself, you don't give a shit about anything or anyone else!"

"Oh, please, like you're any better with your freakshow eyes and wannabe punk rocker bullshit! You can't even write one half-decent song, you talentless dumbass!"

"Yeah, well, at least I don't have to buy tube after tube of hair dye to keep my blond color!"

Peyton gasped, then scowled and slapped him. He lifted a hand to touch the afflicted spot, then burst into laughter.  
"You think this is funny?!" she demanded. "You know what? Fuck you, you rotten son of a bitch!"

"Back atchya, roiderbanks!"  
"The fuck did you just call me?!"

He threw his head back and laughed again.

"You know what? Fuck this shit. We are _over,_ King, do you hear me?! _Over!"  
_ "Oh, thank God, I was beginning to think we'd never agree on anything, now get the fuck out of my apartment!"

"You know, I think I will!"  
"Fantastic! Go on and leave, then!"

"Fine! I'll be back for my clothes and shit later!"  
"Don't even fucking bother, they won't be here!"

"Goodbye, Jareth!"  
"Good riddance, bitch!"

She slammed the door behind herself, rattling a few things on the walls. Jareth collapsed onto the couch and shoved his face into a cushion, screaming into it at the top of his lungs. After he had screamed himself hoarse, he slowly pulled away from the cushion, suddenly overcome with an inexplicable exhaustion and feeling as if a heavy weight had settled in his chest, making his heart sink. For years now, every single one of his relationships had ended in some sort of disaster. Initially, it seemed like it hadn't really started until he'd moved to L.A., but now that he actually stopped to think about it more in depth, he realized that it had started before that, though the terminations of his pre-L.A. relationships hadn't been quite so drastic as the ones he'd had since coming to the city.

In fact, now that he thought about, the last relationship he'd had that hadn't ended with bad blood was...

"No," he whispered to himself. He frowned. "Was it really that long ago?"

He got up off the couch and went into his bedroom, opening the closet and pulling a stack of shoeboxes down from the shelf up top. He took them over to the bed and sat down, looking at each one until he came across one in particular. There were years scrawled across the top of the lid in thick black Sharpie:

 _1985—1990_

He took the lid off the box and set it aside, then started going through what was inside; old photographs, scraps of paper, keychain charms and other small trinkets that he had gotten at concerts, so on and so forth. Finally, he found what he was looking for and took it out. He turned it over briefly to look at what was written on the back.

 _Sarah & Jareth, August 1986, ages 15 & 17_

Turning it back over, he gazed at the photograph with a sad fondness. It showed him as a teenager wearing his favored attire of faded jeans, combat boots, fingerless biker gloves, and a t-shirt. He was leaning against a tree trunk with a smile on his face, but he wasn't looking at the camera. Instead, he was looking at the girl in his arms. She had long brown hair and beautiful green eyes, and she was dressed in jeans, a loose white blouse with billowy sleeves, and a gold-and-ivory waistcoat.

Sarah Williams.

He had dated her starting in the summer of 1985 and ending partway through the school year of 1986. He hadn't wanted to end things with her. She hadn't, either. They had been forced to when Jareth's father had gotten a new job in another state and his family had to move. Telling Sarah that they couldn't be together anymore and saying goodbye to her had been the hardest things he'd ever done. He remembered the tree that the picture had been taken at. It had sort of been their special tree, in a way. They used to go and hang out at it together all the time, just to talk and be alone, and Jareth had even carved their initials into it at one point. He remembered how he used to play his guitar for her, and she would always smile and tell him that he was going to be famous one day, she just knew it, and when that day came, she would be the one who got to point at his picture and brag that she had been his biggest fan ever since the very beginning.

He looked in the box again to see what else he could find, this time pulling out a woven bracelet with beads. The part that held it closed around a person's wrist had snapped long ago, but he could still look at it all he wanted. Sarah had made it for him for Valentine's Day. It wasn't anything fancy; it was actually pretty plain-looking. But Jareth had always thought it was special, because Sarah had put time and effort into making it just for him, and that meant something to him. She could have just gone and gotten him something from a store, but she hadn't. Instead, she had decided to make something for him by hand, and he appreciated that she cared enough to do something like that.

Jareth sighed heavily as he picked up another photograph, this one of them sitting on the front porch of Sarah's house with her gripping a bottle of Coke by the neck and his arm around her shoulders. At age thirty-two, he had an apartment in Los Angeles, where he had always wanted to live, he had a job at a nearby bar, a band that he performed with that got the occasional gig at a club or something, and a lot of the time, girls all but threw themselves at his feet either just because of the fact that he played guitar in a band, or because they found him attractive in that bad-boy-with-a-mysterious-sort-of-air-and-hard-outer-shell kind of way. He was living the dream, right?

So why, he wondered, did he feel so damn empty inside?

* * *

 **Okay, so first of all, that word that Jareth used. "Roiderbanks" is an archaic term for someone who spends money frivolously. Um...Okay, so the years for everything:**

 **1985-1986: Sarah and Jareth dated  
** **1988: Rory was born**

 **And then, Jareth would've been born in 1969, and the story itself takes place in 2001. ALSO, while I'm thinking about it, I know that Jareth's not Jareth without certain aspects (like the eyes and hair, hence why I kept them the same as always), and one of those, in my opinion, is his pendant, and it occurred to me suddenly that I've basically made it as if the pendant doesn't exist, so here's my solution for that:**

 **The charm on the pendant? He has a tattoo of it on his right bicep.** **  
**

 **There, problem solved. :)**

 **Also, I got the idea for the title of this fic from a David Bowie song. In "The Wedding Song," he repeatedly uses the phrase "angel for life," so I basically just stuck an "s" on the end of "angel," and boom, fic title, lol.**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy it so far, and again, thanks to Billy Jay for helping me out with it, and...yeah, that's basically it for now. Please review and tell me what you think so far!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so this chapter is kind of lame and sort of meh-ish if you ask me, but I guess it serves its purpose. Um...yeah, so...anyway...yeah. I probably should flesh this chapter out some more before I publish it, but I'm too lazy to do that, not to mention too eager to get to what comes next, so yeah, lol. Um...bleh.**

 **Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it.**

* * *

The next day, Rory went and rode her bike in the park with her best friend Kasey, and as they rode, Rory told Kasey about her mother and Jareth King.

"Okay," Kasey said when Rory finished, "but what does any of this have to do with you or me?"

Rory stopped her bike, and Kasey skidded a bit as she quickly did the same, then backed up a little so she was next to Rory, who looked around as if to make sure nobody was listening before leaning across the space between them to whisper conspiratorally.

"I wanna go find him and bring him back," she said.  
"What?! Are you crazy? What even gave you that idea?"

"Oh, come on, Kasey, it'll be fun! Just think of it, our very own adventure!"  
"Wait, you mean you want me to come with you? No way! My parents would never— _Your_ mom wouldn't, either!"

"You think this is something we're actually gonna tell them about?" Rory asked, quirking an eyebrow quizically.  
"You don't even know where this guy is! How the heck would we even go about finding him, where would we look?"

"In Los Angeles! Duh! Mom said he always wanted to live there when he was younger!"  
"How would we even get there? Because I'll tell you right now, we can't just ride our bikes to California!"

"We wouldn't ride our bikes, dummy, we'd take the bus. I think we've got enough saved up between the two of us."

"And once we got there, how would we find him, huh?"  
"Um, hell- _ooooooo,_ Earth to Kasey! Ever heard of YellowPages?"

"What if he doesn't remember your mom, huh? What then?"  
"We'll take a picture to show him. Of the two of them together."

Kasey narrowed her eyes at Rory in a somewhat suspicious fashion.

"How is it possible that you've already got all this planned out to a T?" she asked.  
"Never underestimate the power of my mind, Kasey. So? Are you in, or what?" Rory replied.

Kasey sighed. "Okay, fine, you win. But how are we gonna get away to do it?"

"Don't worry about that part. I've got an idea that I think will work. Now, listen closely, 'cause I'll only say this once..."

A few days later, Kasey packed a bag and told her parents she was going over to spend the night at Rory's house. Rory had already packed some things into her faded blue-and-white striped backpack and secretly snatched a picture of Sarah and Jareth out of a photo album. She had put the picture in her wallet, which then went into the zippered pouch on the front of her backpack. The girls went to bed at their usual time the same way they always did when one of them spent the night with the other, going through all their typical bedtime rituals and things. When Sarah came in to check on them before going to bed herself, they both feigned sleep, and Sarah fell for it, quietly shutting the door behind herself as she left. The girls lay there in the dark for the next twenty minutes or so, waiting until they were absolutely sure that Sarah would be asleep, then they got up, got dressed, grabbed their bags, and climbed out the window, then took off running down the street toward the nearest bus station.

Rory Williams and Kasey Anderson were on a mission, and nothing was going to stop them until they'd achieved their goal.

* * *

"Stop!" Tony shouted over the noise. Jareth couldn't help but let out a sigh and roll his eyes as he and the rest of the band stopped playing. He wondered vaguely what Tony was going to complain about now. It was always something with him; Jareth was hitting the chords wrong, Drew was banging his drums too loudly or too softly, somebody was in the wrong octave; it just went on and on and on...

"God, Tony, what the hell is it now?" Cody demanded.  
"Don't blame me, blame Jareth!" Tony retorted. "He's the one who suddenly can't tell a sharp from a flat!"  
"Aw, come on, dude, don't be like that!" Drew protested. "The guy just broke up with his girlfriend, give him a break!"

"Break-ups happen, Drew, they're part of life. Besides, it was like a whole week ago! Jareth, suck it up, man. Look, I feel for you, alright, honest, but we've got a gig in like two hours, we have to be ready!"

"Peyton leaving was no great loss for me," Jareth said in a monotone. "I don't know why I put up with her as long as I did, she was a despicable human being."  
"Good, then—Wait, if you're so relieved to be rid of her, why the fuck are you so out of it today? Get it together, man! Snap the hell out of it, we need you to focus!"

Jareth swatted Tony's hand away as the other man snapped his fingers in his face. Tony kept ranting at him, but Jareth autonomously tuned him out, letting his eyes wander to take in his surroundings.

They were in Drew's basement, where posters of various bands and solo artists from across the years were plastered all over the walls, along with pictures of the four of them performing and waiting backstage to go on. Small pieces of trash and things littered the floor, and half-empty bottles of beer sat on top of the trashy little coffee table that was down there. There was a fridge in one corner that made an incessant humming sound all the time, but Jareth was so used to it by that point that it was really nothing more than background noise to him. A couple years ago, when they had first started using the basement as their practice space, Cody and Drew had teamed up to spray paint the band's logo on one of the walls. It was done in a sort of grayish-blue color with the outlines in a crisp black. The "O" wasn't an "O" at all; it was a crudely done skull. And there was a lightning bolt in the middle of the "G."

 _The Underground._

That was what it said. Just those two words, the band's name. He didn't know what had compelled them to pick that, but for whatever reason, they had all agreed upon it, so that was what they were called. Oh, God, would Tony _ever_ shut up?

 _'Fuck this,'_ Jareth thought. He lifted his guitar strap over his head, placing the instrument on its stand and heading for the stairs on the other side of the room.

"Dude, where the hell are you going?! We've gotta practice!" Tony exclaimed.  
"I can't deal with this shit right now, Tony, I'm getting a headache," Jareth replied. "I'll be back later, alright? Just...practice without me for now."

"Jareth, what—Get your ass back here or you're out of the band, you hear me?! Jareth! _Jareth!"_

He ignored Tony's threats and protests as he made his way up the stairs and out of Drew's house. He was surprised at how late it was. Must have lost track of time while they were practicing. The sun was already beginning to set as he started making his way down the street with his hands shoved in his pockets. It was still incredibly hot, though. That was one thing he hated about living in California; the heat. Especially in the summer. It was part of why he had decided to wear a tank and faded denim vest today. (That, and because he hadn't worn one in a while and felt like showing off the tattoo on his arm.) He didn't know how long he walked for, but it was a while, he knew that. He'd decided that he didn't much care whether or not Tony made good on his threat to kick him out of the band. He just needed to get away from the guys and have some time to himself to think and clear his head.

He was snapped out of his thoughts and musings rather abruptly at the sound of a car horn blasting. He turned and saw two young teenage girls in the middle of the street—with a car headed straight for them. He acted without thinking, racing out into the street and grabbing each girl by the backpack she was wearing, pulling them both to safety just before the car went past.

"Are you out of your minds?!" he demanded. "You could have been killed! What were you thinking?!"  
"We didn't realize—" the brunette began. "I mean...We thought we could make it before any cars came."

Jareth sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Next time," he said, "just...look for a crosswalk like normal people do."  
He turned and began heading off, but had barely taken five steps when one of them said, "Wait. Are you...Are you Jareth King?"

He stopped in his tracks and let out another sigh before turning to face them. "Let me guess," he said, "you've seen my band play somewhere. Was it the hair that gave me away? I've been told I have very distinct hair."

"Um...yeah, we...we saw your band play. Actually..."

She slid her backpack down her arm and opened it up, pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper and holding it up for him to see. "We were thinking about going to tonight's show, too," she said. "So we could meet you."  
"Yes, well, it seems that there's no need for you to go to it now, is there? Besides, I'm not sure I'll be permitted to perform tonight, anyway. Tony threatened to kick me out of the band for leaving in the middle of a rehearsal earlier."

He frowned thoughtfully. "What your names?" he asked.  
"Rory Williams," the brunette said. "And this is my best friend, Kasey Anderson."

"What are you, thirteen? Fourteen?"  
"Thirteen. We, um...we...we were..."

"No, wait, let me guess. You ran away from home or something and came to L.A. because you decided you wanted to be groupies, or backup singers, or some other sort of shit like that, and you'd heard about how there are all sorts of fledgling bands in this city, is that it?"

"Something like that..." Kasey said.  
Jareth sighed and shook his head.

"Rory, Kasey," he said. "Let me tell you something. I've seen my fair share of girls like you. The story never ends well. You'll end up pregnant at a young age, or on drugs, or in a bad relationship you can't get out of, or on the streets, or you'll get AIDS, or some other kind of shit will happen, and then one day, you'll wake up, and you'll wonder what the absolute _hell_ you were thinking when you decided to run away. And believe me when I tell you that it is _never_ worth it in the end. You'll be full of regrets, you'll wonder where the hell you went wrong and how things got so bad so fast, and there won't be anything you can do to fix things. It'll be a lot better in the long run if you just turn around and go back to wherever it is you came from right now and save yourselves all the trouble, alright? Trust me on this."

"Is that what happened to you?" Kasey asked.

Jareth stared at them for a moment, then let out a quiet, humorless laugh and shook his head slightly.

"Look," he said, "just take my word for it. It's not worth it. Go home while you still can."  
"Yeah, um, see...that's the thing, though," Rory said. "We kind of can't. Like, at all."

"What do you mean?"  
"We spent all our money on bus fare getting here."

Jareth sighed and pinched bridge of his nose. "Of course you did," he muttered, then let out another sigh. "Alright," he said, "then tell me this, do you have anywhere safe to stay?"

"We didn't exactly plan that far ahead," Kasey replied.  
"No, of course you didn't, why would you?" Jareth said.

Kasey frowned at this, but Jareth ignored it.

"Alright, fine," he said. "You can come with me and stay at my apartment for the night, but _only_ for the night. Tomorrow morning, we're going to figure out a way to get you home, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," the girls chorused.  
"Good, then follow me."

He led them through the streets back to his apartment, and when they got to the door, he pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked it, then tossed the keychain on the coffee table as the girls followed him inside. "It's a mess right now," he said, "but everything functions as it should, so I don't complain."

"You think this is a mess?" Kasey said. "Ha! You should see my brother's room!"

"So you live here by yourself?" Rory asked.  
"Yes," Jareth replied. "My ex just moved out recently, so I'm alone again."

The phone suddenly started ringing, and Jareth made a sound in the back of his throat that was something like a growl. "Great," he muttered. "Probably Tony. This is _just_ what I need right now." He stalked into the kitchen and grabbed the phone off the table, rejecting the call without even bothering to check the caller I.D., then going back into the main room of the apartment and looking around for a moment before going over to the coffee table and pulling it out of its usual spot. He shoved it up against the wall, then went back over to the couch and started pulling all the cushions off, throwing them carelessly over his shoulder.

"Sheets and blankets are in the back of the bedroom closet," he said, pointing at the bedroom door. "Go get some, and bring a couple of the spare pillows that are in there, too."  
The girls looked at each other, shrugged, then set their backpacks down and went off in the direction he had pointed. While they were doing that, Jareth pulled out the bed that was hidden inside the couch, and when the girls came back with what he had requested, he put everything on the bed, then stood up straight and pushed some hair out of his face.

"There you go," he said, then pointed at the other door in the room. "Bathroom's through there if you need it. And...I think that's everything. I tend to sleep pretty late, so on the very likely chance that you're up before me, help yourselves to whatever food you find in the kitchen. And, um...yeah. That's about it. So...I'll see you tomorrow, and we'll get everything figured out, get you both back home."

So saying, he turned and began heading for the bedroom.

"Jareth?" Rory said.

He stopped and turned around.  
She stared at him for a moment.

"I just...I guess I just wanted to say thanks. For helping us out, I mean."

"...Right. Yeah, sure. No problem."

And with that, he went into his room and closed the door.

* * *

Jareth woke up the next day to the sound of the TV from the other side of the door and wondered for a moment what the hell was going on before he remembered Rory and Kasey. He groaned, then sighed and forced himself out of bed, grabbing a random pair of sweatpants off the floor and pulling them on before heading out of the bedroom. He ignored the girls' eyes on him as he walked across the main room and into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a turkey wrap from a deli down the street. He bit into it and just savored the taste for a moment before closing the fridge and taking his food back into the main room.

"Alright," he said, "first thing's first. Where are you two from?"  
The girls looked at each other, then back at Jareth, and Rory mumbled something incoherent.

"Beg pardon?" Jareth said.  
"Virginia," Rory repeated.

"Good _God,_ you're a long way from home!" Jareth exclaimed.  
"Yeah, and, um...we might not have been totally honest with you yesterday."

"...What do you mean?"

"We didn't run away from home to be groupies or whatever. We've also never seen your band play."  
"...Then why _did_ you run away? And how the hell did you know who I was if you've never—"

"Do you remember the girl you dated like fifteen years ago and then had to break up with when your family moved away? Sarah Williams?"

"...What do you know about Sarah Williams?"

"She's my mom."  
"...I'm sorry... _what?"_

"Yeah, she, um...she—"  
"She can't possibly have a thirteen-year-old daughter," he interrupted. "That would have to mean that you were born when she was only—"  
"Seventeen, yeah. Um...Yeah, my dad broke up with her when she told him, and then he moved away before I was born. She says he was a prick, so...yeah."

"What...I don't...Wait. How do I even know you're telling the truth?"  
"Would I make up shit like that? Besides, what reason do I have to lie?"

"I...Point taken, I suppose."

The phone rang. Jareth stood there with his turkey wrap in his hand, all but forgotten, staring at Rory in disbelief.

"Aren't you gonna answer that?" Kasey asked, pointing at the phone.  
"No," Jareth replied shortly. "Let it ring for all I care. Listen to me, I have questions for you, and I want answers, understand? What are you doing here? What's the real reason you came?"  
"To find you," Rory said. "Mom misses you. Like, a lot. I thought that...Well...I thought that maybe you could come back to Virginia with us to see her. I have—Here, wait, I wanna show you something."

She grabbed her backpack and opened the pouch on the front, pulling out a wallet. She opened that and produced a photograph, which she held out to him. He frowned quizically and hesitantly reached out to take it, turning it so he was looking at it rightside-up. As soon as he saw what it was a picture of, his face softened and he dropped the turkey wrap. The photograph showed him sitting on the ground beneath the tree he'd carved his and Sarah's initials into. He had his guitar, and he was smiling at Sarah, who was sitting beside him with her knees drawn up to her chest and a big smile on her face.

"My God," he whispered. "She really is your mother, isn't she? I can see it now, you look just like her in the face. You mean you came all the way out here to—to find me for her?"

Rory nodded.

"All the way from...from where in Virginia, exactly?"  
"Belle Haven. It's really small, the population's only in triple digits."

"I know, it...it's the same town where we lived when she and I dated. She's still there after all this time, I...I can't belive it..."  
"It got a little hard for her to get out of there after I came along. Honestly, I feel kind of guilty for it. I mean...You know?"

Jareth didn't answer. He was too caught up in staring at the picture. Finally, he took a few deep, ragged breaths and held the picture out to Rory, who took it from him with a confused expression on her face.

"Alright, that settles it," he said.  
"Settles what?" Kasey asked.

"I'm taking the two of you back to Belle Haven."  
"Seriously?" Rory asked. "As in...like...you're coming with us?"

"As in I'm coming with you, yes. We're going back to Virginia, and...we'll see how things play out when we get there, shall we? Get ready, I'm going to get dressed and then we're leaving. Before I do, though, I have a phone call to make."

"To who?" Rory asked as Jareth picked up the phone.  
He flashed a smile at her, his mismatched eyes flashing.

"Well," he said, "can't have my bandmates expecting me to show up when I'm not even in town, now, can we?"

"So you don't mind just up and leaving them?"  
"Tony threatened to kick me out, remember? My time with them is as good as over either way, so what should it matter?"

"Jareth?"  
"Yes?"

"You are one awesome guy."  
"I certainly like to think so. Now start getting ready, both of you. We'll leave soon."

* * *

 **...Yeah. Um, originally, the story was going to be about Kasey and Rory's trip cross-country to find Jareth and everything, but then I was talking to Billy about it, and she was like, "What if we reunite them early in the story and make it about them building their relationship back up to where it was fifteen years ago?" And I was like, "Yeah, I like your idea better, let's do that." So that's what we're doing here. Um...yeah, so...bleh. That's all I have to say about that.**

 **I won't update again until I've gotten a couple of reviews, so if you like this story so far, please review so I can give you an update. Also, I will try to flesh out the next chapter some more so it's not as lame, I promise.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, this chapter is longer than the other two and, in my opinion, much better than the last one. Once again, thanks to my wonderful friend Billy for helping me out with this, I never would have finished this chapter without her suggestions, so she deserves some credit for that. :) Also, there is going to be singing in this chapter, and the song is a real song that some of you may recognize, seeing how I borrowed it from David Bowie. It's called "Beauty and The Beast," and I have it on one of my Spotify playlists, and I love it, though I only included the first two verses of it in here. If you don't know the rest of it, I would recommend looking it up because I really like it, I think it's really good.**

 **Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine!**

* * *

The only things Jareth took with him on the trip to Belle Haven was a bag stuffed full of clothes and his guitar. When they got into town, Kasey and Rory hugged each other, then Kasey went off on her own, saying she could make it home from there just fine. That just left Rory and Jareth. She grinned and told him to follow her, so he did. They walked for a while in relative silence. The town was almost exactly like Jareth remembered it from fifteen years ago. Then they walked past something that made Jareth stop in his tracks. When Rory realized he wasn't following her anymore, she stopped, looked over her shoulder, and went back over to where he was standing.

"Something wrong?" she asked.  
"This is it," Jareth replied dazedly.

"This is what?"  
"Our tree. It..."

He wandered off the sidewalk and into the grass, setting his bag and guitar down as he went to slowly circle the tree, looking it up and down. He stopped suddenly and flashed a brief smile as he touched a spot on the trunk. "Right here," he said. "This is where I carved our initials. Come and see."

Rory went to stand beside him and looked at the spot he indicated.

 _J.K.+S.W._

She smiled. "Wow," she said. "That's so cool. I've passed this tree a million times, I wonder how I've never noticed that before."  
"You didn't know to look for it," Jareth said absently, lightly tracing over the letters with his fingertip.

They stood there for a few more moments or so, just staring at the carving, each with their own thoughts.

"You wanna go see her?" Rory asked finally.  
Jareth took in a ragged breath and nodded.

"Lead the way," he said. He picked his things up and followed Rory down the street. They didn't go much father. It was only a few more blocks or so before Rory went up the porch steps of a house and banged on the screen door. "Mom!" she called. "Mom, you in there? It's me, I'm home, and I brought someone to see you! Mom, open up! Mom! Mom! _Mom!_ Come on, Mom, open the door, I forgot my key in my room, I can't get in!"

The door on the opposite side of the screen door opened, revealing a woman with brown hair and green eyes and a strong resemblance to Rory. Jareth's breath caught in his throat when he saw her, the recognition immediate. It was definitely her. There was no denying it.

 _"Victoria Avery Williams!"_

Sarah pushed open the screen door and came outside, pulling Rory into a tight embrace. "God, I was so worried about you!" she cried. "Do you have any idea the panic you and Kasey caused?! Is she back, too, where is she?!'

"She went home."  
"Good! We were all terrified something had happened to the two of you! What the _hell_ were you thinking, huh?! Don't answer that! Get inside, now! You are in _such_ huge trouble, young lady, do you understand me?!"

"Mom, will you chill out for like two seconds?! Aren't you even gonna say hi to Jareth?"

"What are you talking abou—" Sarah began. She cut herself off,, however, when she saw Jareth standing there a bit awkwardly, his knuckles white around the handle of his guitar case. He was avoiding looking at her, and his lips were pursed tightly.

"...Jareth?" she managed finally.  
"...Hello, Sarah," he replied.

There was a long pause, then Sarah turned to Rory.

"What did you do?" she asked.  
"Kasey and I went to Los Angeles to find him," Rory explained.

"You did _what?!_ Rory, are you out of your mind? You can't just—"  
"Mom, will you calm down and just _listen?_ Jareth came all the way here to see you. At least talk to him, will you? Or... _something."_

Sarah took a few deep breaths. "Okay," she said. "Okay, you're right, I'm sorry. You're still in trouble, though, you hear me? Now get your grounded little butt inside the house, go to your room, and stay there, I'll come talk to you in a bit, go."

Rory sighed heavily and hung her head. "Yes, ma'am," she said, and slipped past Sarah into the house. Sarah closed the door behind her daughter before turning to Jareth.

"I, um...I'm sorry you had to see that," she said.  
"It's fine," Jareth replied. "I understand, you were worried about her."

"Um...I don't...I don't really know what to say, I mean...God, it's been so long..."  
"I know, it...it's strange, isn't it? I was shocked when Rory told me you were her mother."

There was a bit of an awkward pause.

"So, you're still playing, I see," Sarah said, gesturing to the guitar.  
"Hm? Oh, right. Yes, I, um...I was in a band until a few days ago. I, uh...I got myself kicked out by walking out in the middle of a rehearsal. That wasn't looked upon very kindly, so...one of the guys convinced the others to boot me for it."

"I'm sorry to hear that."  
"Well, I mean...Tony was kind of a controlling prick, anyway, so it's not that big of a deal. What about you, what have you been up to?"  
"Oh, well, I...I'm teaching an acting class, and I'm stage managing a show...being a mom. It, um...It gets really stressful. Rory's great, but she just drives me crazy sometimes."

"She seems very...willful," Jareth remarked.  
"That's one way of putting it, yeah," Sarah said.

There was a slightly awkward pause.

"Um...I'm going to assume you need a place to stay while you're in town?" Sarah said finally.  
"Yes," Jareth replied. "I was thinking I would probably just get a room at a motel or something."

"No, that's not necessary. We have an extra room that you're welcome to if you want it."  
"I...Thank you. That's...That's very kind of you, Sarah, I appreciate it."

Sarah turned and opened the door, then stopped and looked back at him, flashing a smile.

"For what it's worth," she said, "it's good to see you again, Jareth."  
"It's good to see you, too," he replied. "I've missed you, Sarah. More than you know."

She cast her gaze downward, but her smile remained. She turned and led him inside, taking him to a room near the back of the house.

"It's not much," she said, "but hopefully it'll work."  
"It's fine, really," Jareth said. "I appreciate it."

"Well...I guess I'll let you get unpacked. Besides, I still have to go and have a talk with Rory."

Jareth watched her turn and head for the door, suddenly overcome with the desire to pour his heart out to her about how devestated he had been after having to leave her fifteen years ago.

"Sarah..."

She turned.

"Yes?"

And then, just as suddenly as he'd felt the need to tell her everything, he lost his nerve and found that he couldn't.

"Just...I have this song I'm trying to write, and...after you're done talking to Rory, I...I'd like your input on it. You know...just to get another opinion."

She smiled and nodded. "Alright," she said. "I'd be glad to help. Just let me get this over with first."

"Of course. Do what you have to, go be a mother."

And just like that, he was left alone in the room. He sighed heavily and set his things down on the bed, opening his bag and pulling out the notebook he'd stuffed into it at the last minute before he started taking his clothes out and putting them in the dresser. He paused for a moment and closed his eyes.

God...Sarah was even more beautiful than he remembered. And she still did things to him, things that, even now, he didn't fully understand. The feelings she stirred inside of him...It was unlike anything else. He hadn't been sure what to make of it fifteen years ago, and he wasn't sure what to make of it now, either. If he was being totally honest with himself (which he probably wasn't, as per old habits), it was actually a bit frightening. He knew he still had feelings for her. He just...wasn't quite sure what exactly those feelings were at the moment.

He bit his lower lip and shook his head to snap himself out of it, then continued with putting his clothes in the dresser. His mind wandered to the song he was writing, going into a bit of a trance and trying to come up with lyrics. If there was one thing he struggled with, it was rhyming. He hated having to mess with that part and didn't know how he ever managed, but somehow, he did. Personally, Jareth thought his songs were kind of crappy. He could barely ever finish any because he often ended up losing his motivation before he was even halfway through. He didn't know what had compelled him to ask Sarah to look at one of them. He knew she would probably find it shitty, but oh well, it was too late now. Maybe, if he was lucky, she wouldn't laugh at it. Well, at least not too much, anyway.

 _"God,_ Mom, will you just chill out?!"

Jareth couldn't help but chuckle a bit and shake his head slightly when he heard this from across the house. It had taken a couple days or so to get from Los Angeles to Belle Haven, and during that time, he had decided that he genuinely did like Rory and Kasey. Rory reminded him of her mother in a lot of ways, and not just because they looked alike; She had the same flair for the dramatic, for one, and the same general love of life. He also knew that they enjoyed the same type of literature, because at one point while they'd been on the trip, she had pulled a book out of her bag and started reading it, and it was one that Jareth remembered had been a favorite of Sarah's (in fact, he remembered watching the movie adaptation of it with her on multiple occasions, too), and when he'd asked Rory about it, she'd told him that her mom had introduced her to it and she'd just fallen in love with it.

It wasn't much longer before Sarah came back into the room with a tired expression on her face.

"Didn't go terribly well, I take it?" Jareth said.  
"She's grounded for two weeks and pissed off at me for it," Sarah replied, then shrugged. "I can pretty much guarantee you, though, that she'll probably be over it and have accepted her fate by tomorrow morning. Anyway, what was this song you wanted me to hear?"

"Oh, right, um...well, it...It's not finished yet, I'm only about two verses in, but..."  
"Well, I'd still love to hear it. And I'd be glad to give you whatever feedback I can come up with. If you want it, that is."

"I...Yes, that...that would be appreciated. Hang on, just let me...um..."

He opened his guitar case and pulled the guitar out, slipping the strap over his head and perching on the bed with it. He grabbed his notebook and flipped through it until he found the page he was looking for. Sarah came and sat on the bed with him, watching his fingers as he tuned the instrument.

"Hopefully you won't think it's too terribly shitty," he said  
Sarah let out a light laugh. "I'm sure it's fine, Jareth," she replied.

"Right, well...um...here goes, then."

He started playing, his fingers moving nimbly across the strings, and after a moment, he looked at the lyrics scrawled in the notebook and started singing.

 _"Weaving down a byroad,_  
 _Singing the song;_  
 _That's my kind of highroad_  
 _Gone wrong;_  
 _My-my,_  
 _Smile at least,_  
 _You can't say no_  
 _To the Beauty and the Beast_

 _"Something in the night,_  
 _Something in the day,_  
 _Nothing is wrong, but darling,_  
 _Something's in the way;_  
 _There's slaughter in the air,_  
 _Protest on the wind,_  
 _Someone else inside me,_  
 _Someone could get skinned, how?_  
 _My-my,_  
 _Someone fetch a priest,_  
 _You can't say no_  
 _To the Beauty and the Beast;_  
 _Darling"_

He stopped abruptly and shrugged.

"That's all I have so far," he said. "So...what do you think? It's horrible, isn't it?"  
"No," Sarah replied, shaking her head. "No, I...I actually really liked it. What's it called?"

"It doesn't have a title yet. I've been playing around with a few things, but I probably won't decide for sure until after it's completely finished. If it ever _gets_ finished, that is."

"What do you mean?" she asked, furrowing her brow in confusion.  
"I don't...I've gotten into this bad habit of not finishing most of my songs," he admitted.

"What? Why?"  
"I don't know, I just...I lose the motivation."

"Jareth, you...you used to write such amazing songs. I mean...like...What was that one you had that you finished just before you moved away? 'Dreaming My Life' or something like that, right?"

"'If I'm Dreaming My Life,' you mean?"  
"Yes, that's the one! That one was so good, how do you go from that to just...not finishing anything?"

"I don't know, I mean...I guess I just don't feel the music as much as I used to."

"Promise me something, Jareth," Sarah said, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Promise me that before you leave Belle Haven, you'll finish a song and play it for me. Please?"  
He only hesitated for one brief moment before nodding. "Alright," he said. "Alright, I promise. I'll work on the song I just played for you until I finish it, and before I leave, I'll play the whole thing for you, start to finish."

"No, you'll have to do better than that. I want you to..."

She trailed off, a thoughtful expression on her face, then smiled suddenly.

"I want you to do it the way we used to do it fifteen years ago," she said.

Jareth's mind raced for a moment or so before he remembered what she was talking about, and he couldn't prevent a smile from spreading across his own face when he did.

"I cross my heart," he said, "hope to die, and if I break my word, then may the rock gods and Elvis Presley himself curse me in my musical endeavors for all time."

He held both his fists out, and she bumped her own against them, both of them pulling their hands back and making explosion noises before dissolving into laughter.

"It really is good to see you again, Jareth," Sarah said as they recovered. "You have no idea."

"Oh, I don't know," he replied. "I may have _some_ idea."  
"Well, feel free to stay as long as you want. And if Rory bothers you, just let me know."

"She's not so bad. Reminds me a lot of another girl I once knew."

He flashed a lopsided grin at her, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Jareth," she said, picking at a loose thread on her shirt, "listen. Rory...Rory has gone and convinced herself that you and I should go on...I'm not going to say 'date,' because...I don't know, I'm just not. But...she does, for some reason, think we need to go out and do something together, just the two of us...And now that I think about it, I guess that it would be a good chance for us to...you know...catch up and everything, so...do you maybe want to—"

He held a hand up.

"Say no more," he told her. "Coffee. Tomorrow. That work for you?"  
"As long as you don't mind waiting until I get back from rehearsal."

"Rehearsal for what?"  
"I'm stage managing a show, remember?"

"Oh, right. No, that's—that's fine, I don't mind waiting at all. I tend to sleep quite late, anyway, so that works."

"And this is—it's not a date, right?" Sarah said.  
"Right," Jareth agreed. "Just friends getting coffee."

"Exactly. Yes, that's...that's exactly what it is."

There was a pause.

"Okay," Sarah said, "well...I guess...I guess I'll go start working on dinner."  
"If it's alright with you, I might skip. It, um...It was a long trip, and..."

"Oh, yeah, no, of course. No, I understand. Um...How about this, I'll send Rory in here to let you know once it's ready, and if you're up for it, then feel free to join us, if not, that's fine."

Jareth gave a nod. "Alright, that works," he said. "Then...I guess I'll maybe see you later, and if not, then...I'll for sure see you tomorrow."

"Right. Okay. Um...Alright, I guess I'll go now. Oh, and Jareth, one more thing before I do?"

"Yes?"

She smiled at him.

"Welcome back."

* * *

The next day, Jareth and Sarah went to a local coffee shop together, just as they had agreed to.

"So," Sarah said as they sat down after getting their drinks, "tell me about this band of yours."

"What do you want to know about it?" he asked.  
"Well, you can start by telling me its name," she replied.

"The Underground."  
"What made you pick that?"

"I don't really know, honestly. I think we were a little drunk at the time we came up with it. Someone just...threw it out there, and we were all just sort of like, 'Yeah, sure, why the fuck not?' So we ended up naming ourselves The Underground."

"How many of you are there?"  
"Four. Or at least, there were until I left. Now it's just Tony, Drew, and Cody."

"And I'm assuming you played guitar?"  
"That would be correct. Cody and I also did backup vocals when they were needed."

"What did everyone else do?"  
"Cody was our bass guitarist, Drew was on drums, and Tony was the lead singer. Tony is a very nit-picky individual, he, um...He was always on somebody's case for one thing or another."

"Such as?" Sarah asked, quirking an eyebrow.  
"'Drew, you're banging the drums too loud!'" Jareth mocked. "'No, now you're hitting them too softly, nobody will be able to hear that! Jareth, Cody, you're both in the wrong octave! No, you're hitting that note too sharply! Now you're too flat!' You see what I mean? It was just absolutely _endless_ with him, at least one of us was always doing something wrong, he simply could not be satisfied, no matter what any of us did to try and improve. But enough about Tony and his bullshit. What about this show of yours? What is it, anything I might be familiar with?"

"Well, I would certainly hope so since it was mandatory for English one year in high school," Sarah replied.

"Let me guess. Shakespeare?"  
"Very good. Care to figure out which?"

 _"Romeo and Juliet."_  
"Wrong.  
 _"Hamlet."_  
"Nope."  
 _"A Midsummer Night's Dream."_  
"No, but you're on the right track with it being a comedy."

Jareth furrowed his brow as he frowned thoughtfully, going through a list of Shakespeare's work in his head and ruling out the ones that he knew weren't comedies, such as _Macbeth_ and _Twelfth Night._ Finally, he shrugged. "I give up," he said, "which one?"

 _"As You Like It,"_ Sarah replied.  
"...Isn't that the one where—No, wait, that's _Midsummer."_

"It's the one that Mrs. Carlton liked to call 'Four Weddings and a Funeral,' even though nobody dies in it."  
"...Oh, right! That one! Yes, I remember now. You're stage managing that, really?"

"Yes, and it's crazy."  
"Are you at least enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, absolutely. It just...Like I said, it's crazy, that's all. When the mics aren't malfunctioning, there's a prop missing, or someone's forgetting their lines, or their choreography...I don't know if we'll be ready in time."  
"Well, if I'm still in town on opening night, I'd love to come see it. You know, I'm actually a bit surprised you aren't _in_ it." He laughed and shook his head. "God, I still remember you running around in those costumes of yours as a teenager."

"What, you mean the LARPing?"  
"That's right, I'd forgotten that's what it's called! What does that stand for again?"  
"Live action roleplay. Jesus Christ, did you have to bring that up? Looking back on it now, it's so embarrassing, I have no idea what was wrong with me. I realize now what an idiot I must have looked like."

"Actually...I didn't think it was that stupid," Jareth said.  
"...You didn't?" Sarah asked, her eyes wide.

He shook his head. "No," he replied. "No, I...I thought it was actually really cool that you were confident enough to express yourself that way without giving a shit about what anyone else thought about it. And...if I'm being completely honest here, seeing you run around town in all your costumes and things, it was...it was kind of what drew me to you in the first place."

"So you didn't think it was completely nerdy?"  
"No, not at all. I loved that you were so comfortable with who you were and unashamed of being yourself."

"I...Thank you, Jareth. That means a lot coming from you."

There was a pause, during which Jareth fiddled with the guitar pick around his neck.

"So," he said finally, "what...I mean...What exactly is the deal with Rory's dad? She sort of told me the basics, but...I'm curious."  
Sarah looked down, suddenly fascinated by the surface of the table they were sitting at. "It...There is no 'deal,' really," she said. "It's nothing."

Jareth frowned. "I won't push you if you don't want to talk about it," he said quietly. "I just—"  
"You remember that guy from our Spanish class, Brandon Miller? The one with a talent for pissing off Señora Montoya?"

There was a pause as Jareth let this sink in.

"Wait a minute," he said slowly. "You mean you _actually_ dated that asshole? Sarah, what the _hell_ were you thinking?"  
"I don't know," she replied, shaking her head. "I mean...You were gone, and I was still not totally over that, he asked me if I wanted to go to homecoming with him, and I just...I didn't really think before I said yes, and next thing I know, he's telling people we're a couple, so I just...I don't know, for some reason, I never did or said anything to discourage that, and so..."

She shrugged.

"We were," she finished.  
"But...how did Rory end up happening? That's what I don't understand," Jareth said.

Sarah let out a heavy sigh.

"We went to this party," she said, "and...I don't know, things just ended up...happening, and..."  
"And he just...left you when you told him? Broke things off and started ignoring you, or...was there more to it?"

"He got really pissed off. Started yelling at me and shit, made me feel like it was my fault and I had brought it on myself. Told me that maybe if I wasn't such a little slut, I wouldn't be in that situation..."

Under the table, Jareth clenched his fist. He hated what he was hearing. Anyone who had the nerve to treat Sarah like that was, in his mind, a despicable human being who deserved whatever bad things ended up happening to them in life. He licked his lips to give them some moisture, doing his best to keep his cool and not let his anger show as Sarah continued speaking.

"Anyway," she was saying, "he, um...he dumped me, and yeah, started ignoring me, and when it got out that I was pregnant, he told his friends and parents that I had cheated on him and it wasn't his. And then, about...I don't know...a month before I was due, he and his family moved out of town, and I haven't seen or heard from him since, which is how I prefer it. I told Rory about him because I've never seen any point in lying to her or keeping it a secret, but she's never met the guy, and the one time she asked to see his picture when she was younger, it was out of my old yearbook."

Jareth pursed his lips, shaking his head.

"That fucking piece of shit," he said. "God, Sarah...I'm so sorry you had to go through that."  
"It's in the past. I don't really think about it anymore, so..." She trailed off into a shrug, taking a sip of her coffee.

Jareth watched her for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

"What was wrong with us?" he said quietly.

Her green eyes flickered over to his face.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He let out a soft laugh without any humor in it.

"Look at us," he said. "We used to be so damn close, and now just look at us. Why the hell didn't we stay in touch after I left, what was wrong with us that we didn't send each other letters or something? Stayed a part of each other's lives to some extent? Maybe then Rory and Kasey wouldn't have pulled that little stunt of theirs and we wouldn't be sitting here in a coffee shop telling each other about the messes our lives have become. We wouldn't need to because we'd already know. God, Sarah...We went wrong. We went terribly wrong with not staying in touch, and we both know it."

"I agree," she replied. "I completely agree, it was a mistake not to keep communication going after you moved. But...there's not anything we can do about it now, so...why dwell on it? What's the point of moping around and regretting it when we've been given the chance to rebuild what we had?"

Something flashed in his mismatched eyes, but it was gone too quickly for Sarah to identify it.

"You think that's what this is?" he asked.  
"I think that's what we should look at it as," she said.

"...So...what does that mean for us?"  
"...I think...I think it means that we might still have a chance."  
"I...That actually...That's comforting in ways you might not know."

"So...what now?" Sarah asked.

Jareth considered his words carefully before speaking.

"I'm not entirely sure," he said finally, "but...if we could maybe move this up a step from friends getting coffee, then...I think that would be a good place to start."

She smiled at him, pushing some hair behind her ear.

"I'd like that," she said.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Jareth felt like maybe, just maybe, things were finally starting look up for him.

* * *

 **Okay, so it's kind of funny, actually, my high school theatre teacher, "Four Weddings and a Funeral" really is what he likes to call _As You Like It,_ so that's where I got that idea from, lol. Anyway, um...yeah, that's about it. So...I guess just...please review, because it keeps me motivated, and that means faster updates, which is always a good thing, right? Right. **

**SO REVIEW, OR ELSE JARETH WILL STICK YOU IN AN OUBLIETTE!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so I sent this chapter to Billy to read over before posting it, and she says it's really good and she liked it, so I'm pretty confident about it. (She also says that she can't stop imagine Jareth talking in, and I quote, "this uppity David Bowie accent," lol.) I had to get online and do some research on certain things for this chapter, and Billy says that it shows, so I guess that's a good thing. Also, the vocal exercise/tongue twister that Sarah has her acting class do is one that I really did learn in high school, we used it in drama club and before shows and stuff, so that's where that came from. Um...and...I think that's about it, so...yeah.**

 **I DISCLAIM!**

* * *

"Hey, Rory," a voice said, "is it true your mom's keeping some guy at your house?"

Rory rolled her eyes. "He's not 'some guy,' Chris," she said, "his name's Jareth, and he and my mom used to go to school together. He came here from Los Angeles to visit her."

"That's not what I heard," Miranda interjected. "My mom says that she knew him in high school, and he's some washed up rockstar wannabe, that he probably came back to town because he failed hard, and he's staying with you guys because he and your mom used to date and they're getting back together."

"That's not what happened!" Rory exclaimed. "I mean...yeah, he and Mom used to date, but that's not why he's staying with us, and they're not getting back together."

"Yet," Miranda said.

"And he's not a washed up wannabe, either!" Rory continued. "He's actually really good at what he does, he just...he's having some trouble finding the right inspriation is all."

"Sounds like a wannabe to me," Chris said.  
"Would you guys just leave him alone?!" Rory cried. "You haven't even met him, jeez!"

"What's your problem, Rory?" Sadie asked. "Why are you so defensive of this guy?"  
"Because he's nice, and I like him," Rory said. "And him being here is making my mom happier than I've seen her in a while. She really missed him, okay? They haven't seen each other in fifteen years, and it means a lot to her that he's back."

"Just leave her alone, guys," Kasey said. "Quit talking trash about Jareth and leave Rory alone, okay? I've met him, he really is a pretty cool guy, and Rory has every right to be upset that you're bad-mouthing him."

The final bell rang, and everyone began gathering their things in preperation to leave.

"I still say he's a washed up rockstar wannabe," Miranda said as she put a book into her bag. "He wouldn't have come back from L.A. if he wasn't. That's what Mom says."

"Your mom doesn't know everything, Miranda," Rory shot back. "And neither do you, so get over yourself already, will you?"

Having said this, Rory grabbed her things, got up, and left the room before anyone could respond.

On the walk home, she was stopped by Mrs. Arrington, who prodded her with questions about Jareth, but Rory ignored her and didn't respond, instead adjusting the position of her backpack and continuing on her way.

"Mom, I'm home!" she called as she walked in the door.  
"She's not here," Jareth's voice replied. "She called earlier and asked me to tell you she's going to be a bit late getting home."

"Oh, okay. Where are you hiding?"  
"I'm not hiding, I'm right in here."

She followed the sound of his voice into the living room, where she found him on the couch with his guitar and notebook, tapping a pencil against the pages of the latter.

"People at school are talking about you," Rory said as she let her backpack fall to the ground beside her feet.  
"Are they indeed?" Jareth replied absently. "And what, pray tell, might they be saying about me?"

"Miranda said that her mom told her that you're some washed up rockstar wannabe who came back because you failed hard in L.A. and the only reason you're staying with us is because you and Mom used to date and are getting back together. I told her it's total bullshit, but she won't listen to me."

"People say all sorts of things for all sorts of reasons, Rory," Jareth said. "You have to learn to ignore most of it. You can't let it get to you, otherwise you'll just go through life being miserable because you're so worried about what others think. Trust me. Kids in school used to say all sorts of shit about me just because of the way I looked and because I had to repeat a few classes. Like I said, you have to learn to ignore it."

"Well, it still pisses me off that they're jumping to all these conclusions about you just because their parents said some stuff."  
"It's very noble of you to be so concerned for me, but unnecessary, I assure you. I stopped caring what most people think a long time ago."

"Can I ask you a question?"  
"That depends what it is."

"What's up with your eyes?"  
"I beg your pardon?"

"Your eyes. Why are they...the way they are?"  
"What, you mean two different colors? It's a rare genetic condition called heterochromania. I like to think of it as my eyes couldn't choose whether they wanted to be brown or blue, so they decided to be both. Oh, and by the way, I was asked to remind you to start on your chores when you got home."

Rory groaned. "Aw, man!" she exclaimed. "That's gonna take _forever!"_  
"Forever's not long at all," Jareth remarked, one corner of his mouth turning upwards.

"No, seriously!" Rory said. "Mom gave me all this extra stuff to do as part of my punishment, there's no way I'll be able to do everything and still have time to finish all my homework before dinner!"

"What if I helped you?" Jareth asked.  
"No," Rory said, sighing heavily. "Mom wouldn't like that. I have to do it myself, otherwise it doesn't count."

"Sarah doesn't have to know," he replied. "It will just be our little secret, how does that sound?"

"Really? You'd do that for me?" she asked in disbelief.  
"You're a good kid, Rory," he said. "You only did what you did because you wanted your mother to be happy. I think that counts for something. So yes, I'll help you."

"Oh my gosh, thank you _so_ much, you have no idea how much I appreciate this! Okay, um...hang on, she left a list of stuff for me to do, let put my backpack in my room and then I'll go get it."

She grabbed her bag and took off running towards her bedroom. While she did that, Jareth took his notebook and guitar back into the guestroom, putting the instrument back in its case and the notebook on the nightstand. When he went back into the living room, Rory was waiting for him with a piece of paper in her hand.

"Okay," she said, "I think the best place to start would be with the dishes. I have to unload and then re-load the dishwasher and put away the clean stuff. If you'll do the re-loading, I'll unload and put stuff away. That work for you?"

"Whatever you think is best," he replied.  
"Okay, great, then follow me and let's get started."

So Jareth let Rory lead him into the kitchen, and she opened the dishwasher. He took off his biker gloves and shoved them into his back pocket so they wouldn't get ruined by the water, then went to work rinsing the excess off the dirty dishes that were in the sink.

For a while, they worked in relative silence, broken only by the sound of the water flowing from the sink faucet and the clanking of dishes and silverware.

"Alright, Rory," Jareth said finally, "you know a bit about me. Now tell me something about you."

"Like what?" she asked with a shrug.  
"Anything that you can think of," he replied.

"Okay, um...let's see...I'm in drama club at school."

"Do you enjoy it?"  
"Yeah, it's tons of fun!"

"Have you been in any of your school's productions?"  
"Yeah, I was in the fall musical last year. I've also done running crew and ushered."

"What's your favorite play? Or is it a musical?"  
"I have a favorite Shakespeare play, favorite non-Shakespeare play, and a favorite musical."

"And what are they?"  
"My favorite Shakespeare is _Twelfth Night,_ my favorite non-Shakespeare is _A Streetcar Named Desire,_ and my favorite musical is _Into the Woods._ The Witch is one of my Top Five Dream Roles."

"What about your favorite book? Or favorite movie?"  
"Favorite book is a tie between _Phantom of the Opera_ and _Les Misèrables,_ and favorite movie is _The Outsiders,_ which is also my favorite book that doesn't have a musical based on it."

"What's your favorite subject in school?"  
"Am I allowed to say theatre?"

"I meant academic subject."  
"Oh. Um...I guess English. Okay, my turn! Other than music, what are you into?"

"Would you believe me if I said that I can do magic?"  
"What, you mean like you're a magician or something?"

"Before I started taking guitar lessons, I discovered that I have a bit of a talent for card tricks and visual illusions and making objects disappear and reappear and other things like that."

"Can you make all these dirty dishes disappear?"

Jareth chuckled. "No, unfortunately I'm not _that_ talented," he said. "However, coins, paperclips, and other small items are fair game. I've even been known to make a fork or two disappear from the dinner table."

"You'll have to show me some of your tricks later," Rory said.  
"I might be a bit out of practice," Jareth replied, "but I won't object."

"So...Mom says you're gonna write a song while you're here and play it for us before you leave."  
"I promised her I would finish the one I'm working on, yes. I'm having some writer's block, though, that's the trouble."

"You'll figure it out," Rory said encouragingly. "I know you will."  
"It's good to know your mother isn't the only one who thinks so."

"So, do you have any siblings?"  
"No, I'm an only child. I do, however, have a cousin."

"What's his name? Or...her?"  
"You had it right the first time. His name is Calum, which means 'dove,' and his parents chose it because it was the sixties, and they were hippies."

"Is he older or younger than you?"  
"Older, but only by a few months."

"So does that mean you were born in the sixties, too?"

"Sixty-nine, to be exact."  
"So were your parents hippies, too?"  
"My mother was. My father was a soldier in the war."

"So you were a love child, is that it?" Rory asked.  
Jareth threw his head back and laughed. "Good God, where did you even hear that term?" he asked her.

"I read it in a book," she said, shrugging as if it were no big deal.  
"No, I wasn't a love child," Jareth told her. "When my mother told him she was pregnant, my father had the good sense to marry her before being deployed."

"Okay, wait, when you say your dad fought in the war, you're talking about the Vietnam War, right? The one Forrest Gump fought in?"  
Jareth nodded. "That's correct," he said. "Wait, Sarah's let you watch that movie? Some of the stuff in it is...a little mature for you, I would think."

"Mom lets me watch all kinds of stuff. She says she'd rather I'd be exposed to what's in it at home where she can explain it to me than out somewhere else where I might get fed bullshit about it," Rory explained.

Jareth considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Alright," he said, "that seems valid. I can understand why she'd prefer that, it makes sense. Honestly, I'm also a bit surprised she lets you cuss so casually. Or do you only do that when she's not around?" He smirked at her, and she laughed, giving a slight roll of her eyes.

"No," she said, "I do it around her, too. She says it's okay, just as long as I don't go around saying that sort of thing in situations where it will get me in trouble. She says that she understands how frustrating it is to be pissed off about something and know exactly which words you want to use, but not be able to use them because you would get in huge trouble if you did, and she wants me to be able to express myself however I need to, so just as long as I don't go around using that kind of language in front of my teachers or something, she's alright with it. Well, and I'm also not allowed to do it around Grandpa and Irene. Wait, do you know who Irene is?"

"She's Sarah's step-mother, isn't she?"  
"Yeah. And I guess that means you also know Toby?"

"Your uncle, if I'm not mistaken."  
"Yeah. He's only three years older than me, and it's kind of weird being that close to my uncle in age."  
"He was only a year old the last time I saw him. I remember helping your mother babysit him a few times. How is he these days?"

"He's pretty good. He's a sophomore in high school, and he's got a girlfriend named Jazz who he took to homecoming. She's alright, I guess. I mean, I'm not crazy about her like he is, but she's better than his last girlfriend. _She_ was a psycho manipulative bitch, we were all _so_ relieved when they broke up."

"I'm assuming Jazz is a nickname for something?"  
"Yeah, her name is actually Jasmine, but she says that she started going by Jazz after _Aladdin_ came out because of having the same name as the princess from it. She kept hearing all these lame jokes, and people kept asking her where the Genie and Aladdin were and all kinds of other crap, so she said she finally just went, 'Screw it, I'm not putting up with this anymore, from now on, I don't answer to Jasmine, I only answer to Jazz, end of story.' And that was the end of that."

"What about you?"  
"What do you mean?"

"Well, Sarah told me that Rory is short for Victoria. Is there a story behind how that came about?"

Rory shrugged as she closed the dishwasher and put it on the right settings before starting it up. "Not really," she said, watching Jareth pull his gloves out of his back pocket and put them back on. "Well," she continued, "I mean...kind of. Uncle Toby was only three when I was born, and he couldn't really pronounce the name Victoria yet, and he called me 'Rowy' until he was almost four, but then after that it got easier for him, and 'Rowy' changed into 'Rory,' and it just sort of stuck, you know? So that's how I ended up being Rory, it was all thanks to my then-three-year-old uncle."

Her eyes wandered to the guitar pick around his neck. "Is there a story behind _that?"_ she asked, pointing at it.  
Jareth looked at what she was indicating and chuckled. "As a matter of fact, there is one," he said, taking it between his fingers.

"Will you tell it to me?"  
"Certainly. First of all, here, I'll let you get a better look at it."

So saying, he slipped the chain over his head and held it out to her. She took it from him and examined the pick. It was black with a white treble clef on one side, and on the other side, it said, 'MUSIC IS LIFE' in white letters, and there was something written in bright blue on the side with the words, but the handwriting wasn't very neat, so Rory couldn't really make out what it said.

"When I was twelve," Jareth said, "I went to my first concert. It was in 1981, and I'll never forget it. I went with a friend to go see Journey, and when we got to the venue, we ended up getting caught in the middle of some fight that was going on. Well, one of the band members happened to be taking a smoke break before the show, saw what happened, and came to our rescue. It was Neal Schon. He's been their lead guitarist and done backing vocals since 1973. Anyway, Schon yanked us out of the crossfire and made sure we were alright, then, to make it up to us, he gave us backstage passes and told us to come and see him after the show, so we did. While we were backstage, I told him that I wanted to ask for an autograph, but didn't have anything he could sign. So you know what he did? He got up, went through his stuff, took out that very guitar pick that you're holding in your hands right now, grabbed a thin-tipped Sharpie, and wrote on there, 'To Jareth: Never stop believing.' And then he put his autograph on it, handed it to me, and told me to keep it somewhere safe. So as soon as I was able to, I went and had a small hole punched in it so I could put it on a chain and wear it as a necklace. And that's what I've been doing with it ever since."

"...Wow," Rory said. "That is so. Fucking. Awesome. I cannot _believe_ something like that actually happened to you. No wonder you never take this thing off, I wouldn't, either, if I were you! Oh, here. I guess you probably want it back, huh?"

Jareth grinned as he took it from her and slipped it back over his head.

Rory opened her mouth, about to start asking questions about what it had been like to get to go backstage at a Journey concert, but before she could say anything, the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway could be heard.

"Sounds like Mom's home," she said.  
"Sounds like it," Jareth agreed.

"Thanks for helping me with the dishes. I really appreciate it."  
"Not a problem. And remember, it will just be our little secret."

"Right. Yeah, no kidding."

"Rory?" Sarah called. "Jareth? Anybody home?"  
"Coming, Mom!" Rory shouted back.

She glanced at Jareth, and he grinned at her, winking and putting a finger to his lips. She giggled quietly and nodded.

Deep down, Rory knew it was stupid and childish, but a small part of her couldn't help but wish that Jareth could stay forever and not ever have to leave. She knew that part of her would be very disappointed when the time came for him to go back to Los Angeles, but for now, she would just focus on enjoying the time with him that she and Sarah were being given.

Finding Jareth King, Rory decided, was _so_ worth getting grounded.

* * *

"Okay," Sarah said, "next, we're going to do a vocal exercise that we used in my high school drama classes that helps with enunciation. We're going to start off slow and soft, and we're going to get progressively louder and faster with each repetition, alright? It's a tongue twister, some of you may have heard it before, it goes like this; 'Way down south where nobody goes, there's a wishy-washer woman who washes her clothes, she goes ooh, ahh, ooh ahh ahh! That's how the washer woman washes her clothes!' Go ahead and do that, alright, I need to run down the hall and make a phone call real quick, so do it without me, and I'll be back in a couple of minutes. Go ahead and start."

While her class started with the exercise, Sarah left the room and did a quick sprint down the hall to the nearby office room, where she grabbed the phone and started dialing. It rang a few times, then there was a click.

 _"Hello?"_ a man's voice said.  
"Jareth, is that you?" Sarah asked.

 _"Oh, Sarah, hey. Yes, it's me. Everything alright?"_  
"Yeah, everything's fine. Rory's not home yet, is she?"

 _"No, not yet, why?"_  
"I just needed to let her know that I'm going to be home a bit late, that's all."

 _"I'll be sure to pass along the message when she gets here."_  
"Alright, thank you. Are you doing okay all by yourself over there?"

 _"Me? I'm fine. I've been trying to work on my song, but I'm not having much luck."_  
"Don't worry. You'll figure it out sooner or later, I know you will. I believe in you."

 _"Thank you, that...that's actually somewhat reassuring."_

There was a pause.  
Jareth cleared his throat.

 _"S-So,"_ he said, _"was there anything else you needed, or was that all?"_  
"Hm? Oh, right. Um...remind her to do her chores, also. And...I think that's it."

 _"You home late. Chores. Got it."_  
"Great, thanks. Um...good luck with your song. I'll see you later."

 _"Okay, thanks. Yeah, see you later."_

"Bye."  
 _"Bye."_

She hung up and sat there for a moment with her lips pursed before shaking her head and snapping herself out of it, then going back down the hall to the auditorium where her acting class was held. "Alright!" she called over the noise of her students' chanting as she came back in. "You can stop now, good job, guys! Everyone get off the stage, go into the house and grab a seat, and please, stay within the first two or three rows so I don't have to shout to be heard all the way at the back of the room like last time, because I was hoarse for almost two whole days afterwards, and I do _not_ want to deal with that again, so please and thank you."

While her students got settled in the house seats, Sarah herself sat down cross-legged at the front of the stage with her binder of lesson plans, warm-ups, exercises, and acting games.

"Okay," she said, "first of all, has anyone been to any shows since the last time we met? Remember, people, even your kids' school shows count for something here."

A hand in the second row went up.

"Okay, Linda, great, what did you go see, where was it?"  
"The high school's production of _Bye Bye Birdie._ My daughter was in it."

"Okay, great! That's great, um...hang on, let me give you the points for that...Okay. Anyone else?"

She noticed two women whispering quietly to each other and frowned.

"Hey!" she said. "Marianne! Do you and Kathy have something you wanna share with the rest of us? Or should we stop and wait for you to finish your conversation?"

Marianne and Kathy looked at each other, both with embarrassment written across their features.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Sarah said. "Now, if nobody else has seen any shows, then I'd like to talk about—"

"Is it true Jareth King is back in town?" Kathy said suddenly.

Sarah froze for a moment. Of all the things she had thought the other two women might have been discussing, it most certainly had not been that.

"Yes," she said quietly, "it's true."

A murmur went up around the room.

"Calm down, everyone," Sarah said, "it's not—"  
"Are you really keeping him at your house?" Marianne demanded.

"Forget about where he's _staying,"_ Rachel exclaimed, "what I want to know is what the hell he's doing back in town after all these years!"  
"Wait, he's staying at your _house?"_ Elaina said. "Sarah, are you _trying_ to cause a scandal? Think about Rory and what that would do to her!"

 _'Figures that only the women are getting in on this,'_ Sarah thought dryly.

"Will everyone please just calm down?" she said, trying to make herself heard over the noise. It was no use, though. The women were too worked up into a ruckus to be paying any attention. Finally, though, Richard, one of only a handful of men in the class, frowned.

"Hey!" he shouted, his voice rising over everything else. "Everybody shut up, Sarah's trying to talk! Give her a chance to explain, will you?"

Sarah let out a sigh. "Thank you, Richard," she said. He nodded, as if to say that it was no problem.

"Okay, everyone just...chill out, as my daughter would say, and let me explain what I can. Yes, Jareth King is back in town. Yes, he is staying at my house. No, there is _nothing_ going on between us. I am letting him stay in my guestroom because as I'm sure a lot of you know, he and I used to be...well, we were very close, and he needed a place to stay, so I offered to let him stay with me and Rory, and he accepted. He came back because...Oh boy...Okay, people, get ready for a bit of a story. As some of you may be aware, Rory and Kasey Anderson both disappeared not long ago. As it turns out, they ran away and went to Los Angeles to track Jareth down, and they managed to convince him to come back with them. So...he's here, and...I'm not sure how much longer he's going to _be_ here, but...yeah. That's pretty much the story."

"Aren't you worried that he's a bad influence for Rory?" Elaina asked.  
"What? No, not at all," Sarah replied. "Why would I worry about that?"

"Well, it's just...he was always a bit...shall we say, _questionable_ back in high school, and if he's been living in L.A., then—"  
"What do you mean 'questionable?' It's not like he ever did drugs or anything like that. He was a good kid, he just _looked_ wild."

"I have to agree with her on that, actually," Kathy said. "If there's one thing I remember clearly about Jareth King, it's that he wasn't the troublemaker he looked like, especially not compared to certain other boys."

"Thank you, Kathy, that's exactly my point," Sarah said. "Now, can we please stop talking about Jareth King and get back to the lessons? Thank you. Now, as I was saying before, I'd like to do some character analysis for one of Rory's favorite shows, which some of you may be familiar with, _Into the Woods._ First of all, I'm going to start off by giving you some background information about the show for those not familiar with it. It is a musical that premiered on Broadway in November of 1987. Music and lyrics are by Stephen Sondheim, and the book was written by James Lapine. It combines several Grimm Brothers and Charles Perrault fairy tales, and the main characters are Jack from Jack and the Beanstalk, Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, Rapunzel, the Witch who trapped Rapunzel in her tower, and finally, not from any fairy tale, there is the Baker and his Wife. The original cast consisted of Bernadette Peters, Joanna Gleason, Danielle Ferland, Kim Crosby, Ben Wright, Chip Zien, Pamela Winslow, and the Narrator-slash-Mysterious Man was played by Tom Aldredge. There are several other smaller roles, some of which had their own actors, but most of which, such as the Wolf and one of the Princes, were doubled up on one actor or actress. Raise your hand if you have seen the show or heard any of the music from it."

There was a pause.

"Really, nobody? Wow, I'm surprised. Okay, um, well, in that case, we're going to have to watch it. Um, they filmed a live Broadway production of it with the original cast, and since it's Rory's favorite musical, she has it on DVD, so I'm going to have to go home and ask her if I can borrow that so we can watch it in class, and then after we've done that, like I said, I would like to do some character analysis. I do have to warn you, though, the second act is a bit dark. Um, Sondheim musicals have this habit of, um...The way Rory describes it is that at the end of the first act, he makes you think everything is happy and all dandy and everything, but then the second act starts, and he completely crushes your soul."

A laugh went up around the room.

"Um, no, but I really think you guys are going to like it, it's a great show. The story is really good, the music is fantastic, it's got some great jokes, um...yeah. I'm looking forward to sharing it with you guys, I think you'll really enjoy it. Um...other than that, I don't think there's anything else, so class dismissed for today, get your things and let's get out of here."

Everyone got up and started gathering their things. As Sarah collected her own stuff, she couldn't help but overhear some of the conversations going on around her.

"...failed in L.A., so..."  
"...never stood a chance..."  
"...but at her _house?"_  
"...heard that he..."

She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, knowing that they had to be talking about Jareth. She shoved her binder into her bag, shaking her head as she left the auditorium and headed down the hall towards the exit. As she was making her way across the parking lot, a voice called out behind her, making her turn.

"Sarah!" Jenara repeated as she came running up beside the brunette.

"Hey, Jen," Sarah said. Jenara Anderson was Kasey's mother, and like their daughters, she and Sarah were quite close.

"Sarah, you know you can't let them bother you, right?" Jenara said. "As long as you and Jareth know there's nothing going on between you, and Rory knows there's nothing going on between you, that's what matters, right?"

"I appreciate the concern, Jen, but I'm fine, really," Sarah replied.  
"Are you sure? You just look a little...I don't know," Jenara told her.

"I'm sure. Thank you, though. By the way, I'm sorry about Kasey running off to L.A. with Rory."  
"What? Why apologize for that? It wasn't your fault. Kasey is the one who made the choice."

"Well...good point, I suppose."  
"Yeah, she got good and grounded for that."

Sarah laughed. "So did Rory," she said.

They came to Sarah's car, and she pulled her keys out, unlocking it and opening the driver's door, tossing her bag in the backseat.

"You sure you're alright, Sarah?" Jenara asked again.  
"I'm sure, Jen," Sarah replied.

"Okay. Well...if you need anything, give me a call. You know where to find me."  
"Right. Thanks, I will. See you around."

"See you."

As Jenara walked off to her own car, Sarah got in hers and buckled up, then stuck the key in the ignition.

"Rory better have done her chores, or I swear to God," she muttered to herself.

And with that, she backed out of the parking space and drove out of the parking lot.

* * *

 **For those unaware, YES, they really did film a live performance of Into the Woods and put it on DVD LONG before they ever made it into an actual movie, and I have it! It was how I first discovered one of the Queens of Broadway herself, Bernadette Peters, and when my mom first brought it home and showed it to me, I took one look at her picture on the cover and went, "HOLY SNOT, IT'S HELENA BONHAM CARTER'S LONG-LOST TWIN SISTER!" because in my opinion, they look a LOT alike.**

 **Anyway, as usual, remember to review, because if you don't, Jareth will suspend you above the Bog of Eternal Stench, and nobody wants that, now, do they? Nope, didn't think so. So review!**


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